It is almost hypnotic as I sit and watch the scissors moving swiftly in and out of thick, dark hair. It falls all around the chair and she stops often to sweep all those thick locks on the floor. I glance at her and see that she is consumed in her task. She stops to measure. She stops to find what must be chopped next. An act that she could do with her mind in some other world. I look again at her and I know that it is. And slowly my mind drifts too. As I am sure is the person on the chair.
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